my demons (they're eating me away)
by V. Sourweather
Summary: Marlene has made a mistake, and she has to pay for it now. Warning for a lot of darkness. [Written for QLFC - Round 5]


_Summary:__ Marlene has made a mistake, and she has to pay for it now._

_Rating:__ T_

_Warning:__ A lot of darkness around_

_Disclaimer:__ I don't own anything, J.K. Rowling does. I don't make any money out of this story._

_.:._

_Written for:_

_**[QLFC - Round 5]**_

_**Position:**__ Keeper_

_**Team:**__ Tutshill Tornados_

_**Prompt:**__ Write about a place where the worst criminals are imprisoned._

_Word count (without the A/N): 1,836 words_

* * *

_**my demons (they're eating me away): **_**Marlene McKinnon**

Marlene slowly opened her eyes, looking around her for something. Anything. Anything other than the growing puddle of blood around her fiancé. He was lying utterly still in it, and she pressed her trembling hands to her lips.

Why did it have to end this way? It was the only thought going through her clouded mind. They had been happy, and he'd always been here for her when she needed him the most (she'd felt broken after the death of her friends), and then he (or she? She didn't even know anymore.) had made a mistake and everything had fallen apart. He'd come home drunk and she had told him to just stop, to rest, and he had…

A sob escaped her lips. It couldn't be the end. She gathered some of her Gryffindor strength and knelt beside his still body.

"A—Adam?" she called out, shaking his shoulder slightly. "Adam, please, wake up. Please open your eyes. I—I didn't mean to—I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry…"

She understood now. He wouldn't wake up, because he couldn't. Of course he couldn't. She had heard it, the noise his head had made when it came into contact with the edge of the table. And she could see it now. The blood. Everywhere. Painting the floor red.

She cried and sat on her heels, her eyes widening when she truly realized the implication of what she had done. She'd killed Adam. And she loved him; oh, how she loved him. And now he was gone, and it was all her fault. She hugged her legs to her chest and let the tears flood her cheeks.

She sent a Patronus to Moody, explaining everything. She didn't move until the door to their house (no—_her_ house) was opened gently and the Aurors came in, their wands held before them to—to threaten her. No, she didn't need to be threatened. She just stood up and looked Moody dead in the eye. He was leading the mission, of course he was. But he couldn't hold her gaze, and her lips tightened into a thin line when she realized just what she had gotten herself into.

* * *

They'd found her guilty. Of course they had. He hadn't drunk that much, and she'd told them so. He'd just sought her presence in a—more intimate way than she wanted him to, and she'd pushed him away, and his knees had given way, and everything had come crumbling down. And she'd told them it wasn't even self-defense at the trial (she'd felt so guilty that she _wanted_ to be imprisoned or punished in some way), so of course, they would find her guilty.

But now, here she stood, her blue eyes empty where they were once filled with joy and love and _life_.

"Marls? Tell me it's not true, please," Lily begged her. "I know you wouldn't have tried to kill him if he—"

"It's my fault, Lily. I'm not trying to pretend it isn't."

The guards heard her, and their backs straightened. She saw how their hands tightened on their wands, and she sighed.

"I won't try to attack you, don't you worry," she told them, shaking her blonde head.

They didn't answer her, and they didn't loosen their grip on their wands in the slightest. She decided she should just stare right ahead of her rather than at them or at her best friend. She didn't even know why Lily was here in the first place. She shouldn't have been allowed to see her, but perhaps it had been a courtesy from Moody.

"Don't try to save me, Lils. I—I deserve that. I killed Adam, and—"

"But I'm sure it wasn't even intentional! I mean, you're Marlene McKinnon, one of the gentlest people I know! How could you kill someone and _want_ to do it?" Lily asked (and perhaps she wasn't even talking to her anymore).

Marlene glared at her friend anyway.

"I deserve it, Lily," she growled. "It's just a year, and it's the least I can do to make it up."

"It's just a year _in Azkaban_! The prison where every single one of the worst British criminals in history are locked away! I don't—I don't think you'll make it out if you go there. There's not only the—the prisoners, there are also the Dementors, and you don't deserve to be drained of your happiness like that," Lily whispered urgently.

She saw the look in the blonde girl's eyes and her mouth fell agape. It was like Marlene wanted to go there and...

"Marlene…" she whispered.

She knew this was goodbye, at least for a year and maybe… Maybe it was a definite farewell, and she couldn't bear that thought. Tears sprang up in Lily's eyes, but she held them back and shook her head.

"Goodbye, Marls," she sighed and turned on her heels, and all she could think was _I can't lose you too_.

She didn't wait before she walked away, and so she couldn't see the tears welling up in Marlene's eyes as she watched her run away.

* * *

Marlene couldn't believe it. This was a hundred times worse than the worst she had imagined. As she was led down the hallways made of cold stone, she heard the whimpers of some prisoners and the raging screams of others, and she didn't dare look up and into the barred cells.

She could only imagine what she would find in them. Withered bodies and desperate faces. She wondered if they regretted their acts now, if they felt as guilty as she did.

She had her answer when she passed a cell and she heard a raspy voice shout her name. She couldn't help but turn her head and her steps faltered when she saw Antonin Dolohov, chained down behind the bars of the cell.

The guards pushed her forward, but she stopped again when he continued, "McKinnon. Glad you could finally join us…"

She whipped around, escaping the cage formed by her guards, and she planted herself in front of his cell, refusing to move away like her escort told her to. She scowled and seethed, "I would never—I would never do the things you did to Fabian and Gideon to _anyone_!"

"And yet here you stand," he taunted her. "Clearly, you've made a bad move."

"Not as bad as yours, Dolohov," one of her guards intervened, walking closer to his cell. "Wait until the Dementors are here to talk your heart out, would you?"

She wished she could thank her guard, but she couldn't find her voice. The truth was, she had made a bad move. More than a bad move, actually, but she couldn't tell him that. So she let the guards lead her away from him, his words still haunting her as she walked.

* * *

She wasn't in the same area of the prison as Dolohov, and she was grateful for it. But the only thing separating her and all those murderers and other criminals was a door made of metal, and it set her on edge every time it opened. She couldn't relax anymore, even with the noise of the waves crashing against the cold stones.

She'd always loved the sea. Every single time she'd gone there with her family, when she was younger, she'd spent her days on the beach, watching the waves crashing against the sand. Usually, the noise they made appeased her, but as it was the only thing she'd heard for a few months now, it was making her mad instead.

The door opened once more and she sat up on her thin mattress. The Dementors weren't used on her, so she didn't really have to fear the movement around the door. What she was afraid of, however, was the wails she could hear over the sound of the crashing waves.

This was the worst. It wasn't the cold that seeped through the barred window and into her bones that was making her tremble. It was the sound of others' despair. She hugged her knees to her chest and put her hands over her ears, waiting for the screams to disappear. It always felt like an eternity before the door was closed and she could finally relax a little. Today was no different.

_Please make it stop,_ she begged._ Please make it stop. I want to go back to when I was happy with Adam. I want to take it all back, everything that I've done. Please, someone hear me._

No one heard her though. They never did, and they never would.

* * *

She heard the door open once more and several guards came running in, passing in front of her cell without stopping.

The door, as always, remained open for a long time, and she heard the commotion in the cold hallway beyond. And the voice… She couldn't believe it. She remembered the voice she was hearing, she remembered the man who was apparently fighting against the guards… But he couldn't be here, this had to be a dream.

She got up from her mattress with some difficulty (the food they gave her certainly wasn't enough for her to keep her strength up) and walked closer to the door of her cell, peeking through the metal bars and taking a closer look.

It _was_ him… It _was_ Sirius! But what was he doing here? And why was he locked away there, with Dolohov and the others? And why was Moody looking at him like he was a—

A traitor. But he couldn't be. Sirius couldn't be the cause of everyone's deaths. He couldn't have been behind Dorcas's and Fabian's and Gideon's murders and Caradoc's disappearance.

When the guards passed in front of her cell once more, she called out to them, her voice raw from speaking so little in the past few months. Most of them didn't even bother to stop, but the youngest one's steps faltered and he turned towards her.

"What happened?" she asked, an anxiety like she had never felt before running through her veins.

He hesitated and looked at the other guards, still struggling against Sirius.

"He murdered twelve Muggles and Peter Pettigrew, and he betrayed the Potters," he finally informed her, his voice cold as he glared at Sirius across the hallway. He then continued, his voice a little warmer, "But we won, McKinnon. We won."

She didn't need an explanation for what had happened—it wasn't like she actually cared. The Potters… Peter… Her friends. Gone. Lost. Forever.

She stepped away from the door as though it had attacked her, stumbling back until her knees hit her mattress and she toppled onto it, not listening to the guard instinctively asking her if she was alright. She curled into herself and sobbed. It was the first time since Adam's death that she'd actually cried, and she poured all of her emotions out until there was nothing left but _the cold_ inside her, for they might have won, but she… she had lost everything.


End file.
